


DN (OneShot) - Attraction

by Vehuel



Category: Death Note, Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: (Oh Near), Clueless Matt, Crack, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I don't even like it anymore, I'm Going to Hell, It doesn't make sense, It's not Mello's fault, M/M, Matt Can't Deal With This Shit, Oh Dear, The Author Regrets Everything, Undercover, Years Later I Can Confirm This Was the Crackest (?) Thing I've Ever Written, like at all, poor matt, really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 14:31:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3981589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vehuel/pseuds/Vehuel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt didn't want to be there. In that nightclub. He knew this was a bad idea. Stupid Mello and his stupid case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	DN (OneShot) - Attraction

**Author's Note:**

> The Mature rating is only for show. I just wanted to be sure...

The nightclub was dark, the atmosphere heavy with smoke and the reek of alcohol.

Matt sniffed disdainfully, hugging his jacket more closely to himself, and got inside, ignoring the lustful glances sent his way by a group of intoxicated teenagers, their midriff barely covered by that strip of fabric they dared to call skirt.

He glanced around, taking in the small round tables, covered by tons of dirty glasses, the colourful residues of cocktails creating a sea of intriguing combinations.

The heavy music weighed down on his ears, making him feel like his brain was too small, and his heart sped up, matching the heavy rhythm of the basses*.

People were laughing, their voices barely loud enough to be heard.

He searched with his green eyes, taking down his orange goggles and letting them hang around his neck, scanning the crowd , looking for a peculiar shade of blond.

He saw him right away, in one of the upfront tables, right under the dark and empty stage, his bowels open like a waiting mouth.

He really needed to stop playing horror games, Matt decided, shaking his head and moving forward.

He sat down heavily next to Mello, arching a eyebrow at his clearly near-inebriated appearance, and motioned to a young waitress near the barman station, who nodded and hurried up to him.

"So, what are we doing here?" he asked, while placing his order – vodka, straight – with the young girl, who battled her lashes coyly at him, blushing madly before going away.

"What, we can't spend a night together like friends should do?" retorted Mello, smiling brightly and drinking from his glass, the third, judging by the others on the table.

Matt exhaled, and decided to simply relax, and enjoy the evening. He briefly brushed his gun, tucked in his jeans waistband, and then took a sip of his drink. Suddenly, blond locks obscured his vision, while he felt Mello's warm and spiced breath exhale against his ear.

"To answer your question, we are investigating a prostitution ring that seems to have this nightclub as base. Tonight there are strippers, and it seems that in some way the auctions for the youths' nights are agreed upon during the show."

Matt hummed low in his throat, contemplating the situation. "And we have to 'book' a service?" he asked, fearing the answer.

Mello laughed, blue eyes twinkling with mirth at the idea of Matt in that uncomfortable situation. "No, Ryuzaki said we have an inside man, who has stayed undercover for a week in order to gather information. We only need to 'book' him, as you say, and exchange datas."

"Ok" replied Matt, relieved. "Then how we recognise him?"

There Mello frowned, confused. "I don't know. Ryuzaki said that when we'll see him, we'll know".

Matt also frowned, then shrugged. "Then we wait..."

 

 

The evening passed in a blur, and he tried not to drink too much. He needed to stay focused.

Near midnight, the stage lit up, and the show began. Mello pulled a face discovering that the strippers were all males, barely over the age of majority. He laughed at his discomfort, knowing that his straight best friend had hoped for big tits and hot girls. He was kind of relieved. Being gay, he now had a way to spend the time, waiting for their inside man to make a move. He briefly wondered who that poor guy could be, then battled the thought away. He would find out in a matter of minutes, or a few hours. No need to get a headache trying to figure it out.

Bodies moved, one after another, and his gaze found itself locked with long limbs and oiled skin, a multitude of strong backs and firm jaws. He enjoyed the shows, but nothing really caught his interest.

He was extremely picky with his choices in partners. He had strange tastes, preferring lithe figures instead of more strong ones, tonic bodies to muscled ones, fair skin instead of tanned ones.

For a few years, he developed a crush on Mello, since he fit his requirements, but the guy was so straight it probably hurt, so he made himself forget that infatuation. He succeeded, helped along by various flings (also a memorable one with a couple of dark-haired fair-skinned twins – what a beautiful night to remember, that one).

Then something caught his attention. White hair glinted in the stage's lights, while a hush fell on the nightclub. The only sound the heavy music still blaring from the speakers**.

The guy's body was gorgeous, white skin stretched over light bones and a bit of muscles, not too many, enough to make him compact and tonic. He padded on stage, naked feet strangely erotic against the plush carpet covering the wooden boards of the platform.

Matt sat transfixed, eyeing the curves of that body and the curious silver mask that covered the guy's face. His hair, white as snow and translucent, were messy and fell down his ears, barely brushing against a long swan neck, flawless like the rest of that skin. Two delicate collarbones jutted out right after, and Matt's gaze followed the line of the sternum, between two lightly defined pectoral muscles, with two little nipples peeking out, erect in the slightly chilly air. Then came the soft looking flesh of an adorable belly, still a little round from lingering baby fat.

Under it, the smooth curve of narrow hips brought attention to defined hipbones, stretching more of that milky skin.

Matt swallowed, feeling his pants tighten, his cock filling with blood and making known his presence, his mouth salivating at the idea of mapping that frame, licking those bones, nibbling on them, hands hitching to grab the guy and just...

"You're drooling" Mello's teasing voice brought him down to earth, and Matt blushed heavily, coughing and squirming in the seat in discomfort, annoyed at being caught in that situation.

Mello smiled at him, blushing slightly, and threw another look at the stage before coughing. "Well, he's hot, that much I can say. I don't blame you for being... affected"

Matt swatted him on the head, and tried to look at anything else but the platform, trying to will his erection away.

But his eyes, like with a magnet, were attracted back to the stage, to that body, now glistening with sweat, moving against a pole in the middle of the floor. The guy turned, giving him a clear view of a sinuous back, two barely peeking shoulder blades, and leather briefs covering a round pert bottom.

And the possibilities of calming my erection down just flew out of the window, thought Matt with a groan, slumping more in his seat.

The music seemed to come to an end, and the guy raised a dainty hand to throw down his mask.

And Matt stilled, hearing vaguely Mello's heavy swearing near him, dread filling his being.

Two silvery grey irises stared at him, from a face he knew too well.

Near.

 

-End-

 

* I don't know the correct word, I meant the... well, the low sounds in music? I don't know how to explain.

** Again, I'm not sure this is the right word... Let me know.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Uhhh... Ok, I know that the image of a sexy Near is kind of stretched, but... I don't know!
> 
> *goes into hiding*
> 
> Let me know eventual mistakes! English is not my first language.


End file.
